


You can’t buy Love or Forgiveness

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [230]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angry Stiles Stilinski, Claudia Stilinski is Not Stiles Stilinski's Parent, F/M, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Sheriff Stilinski is Not Stiles Stilinski's Parent, Stiles Stilinski is Tony Stark's Son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 07:59:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: Stiles wasn’t stupid. Easily distracted, yes. Naïve at times, perhaps. Weak, without a doubt. He wasn’t stupid, and once he learned something it stuck to him stubbornly, and so it shouldn’t have surprised anyone when he began to unravel the secrets of his biological parents, and he found the exact location of the man who had fathered him before dumping him in the hands of his former bodyguard. Stiles had never actually planed on dropping in on Tony Stark, but when he got a letter from a college that he’d had no business attending there was but a single word that leaped into his mind, and that was Legacy. Stiles wasn’t going to go to some college he hadn’t earned a place in, he wasn’t going to be one of those spoiled rich kids like Jackson Whittemore that got into college because their daddy or mommy had gone there, and he wasn’t going to go to some corrupt establishment that would take you in as long as daddy or mommy could pay a handsome sum for you to fail your way upwards in life.





	You can’t buy Love or Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Let me give you some advice, youngling. Wear your armour well. Keep it clean and mend the cuts, patch-up the breaks before your next battle. Weak walls crumble, youngling, and broken armour yields to a blade and arrow. So, treat your armour as you would your wounded flesh, tend to the damage, for it will keep you standing a little while longer as your enemies come to cut you down. 
> 
> In the early days of August, a new round of 15Minutes happened, but the internet wasn’t working with me and so I was meant to post these stories once I got home but I forgot. It took for my dearest ItAlmostWorked! trying to find a few of these stories to alert me to my mistake, and so here we go a way late update to the 15Minutes series. 
> 
> Well, let’s get this miserable show on the road. Everyone familiar with this series should hurry on ahead to the cart marked as A Slight Change, while the rest o you stay with me for a minute so I can explain to you what this series is and what to expect. This series is my small way of paying back a debt, more than one, to my friends and each story is written within the time-limit of 15Minutes. If you can’t handle stories that are poorly written and full of bad grammar and typos, then run for the hills and be safe; then again, if you can handle bad writing and so on, then you are welcome to follow me down to A Slight Change and see what else you need to know. 
> 
> A SLIGHT CHANGE in the usual run of the mill 15Minutes series, and this change is themes. This fic has the theme of Miserable, but worry not, BrittleDragonBones the mistress of time still has the power to wish for little details such as wanting Tony Stark as Stiles biological father, the Stilinski’s adopted Stiles when he was a baby, and Stark didn’t want Stiles growing-up knowing who he was. She also wanted the Sheriff to be a really bad parent and an abusive one at that. 
> 
> Hi there! So, my brain got struck with migraine in the middle of my project of posting these stories last week, and then the end of the week was a bit chaotic so I failed to post these stories as soon as wished I could’ve done it. I had hoped to post the last stories of the August 15Minutes during the weekend, but things happened like having to go and visit my aunt, and well it just didn’t happen. I’m really going to try and get this done this week, so wish me luck.

Feeling rather detached while also harbouring a bone deep sense of disenchantment with those who had once been part of his life, and frankly the whole world had lost its charm. If Stiles was honest, which he rarely was, he hadn’t felt like he fit on this earth. Still, what finally ripped the remaining strength that had kept him going, that had helped him keep up appearances of being fine instead of expressing just how completely done he was with this whole life and living thing, the walls had finally fallen and he was just done. Done with everything, and everyone.

Life hadn’t since the delicate days of his early childhood felt like anything but a test of how much misery and pain he could take, not since before pre-school had he felt like fine and happy. Starting pre-school made the faulty wiring of his person and the unforgiving glitches in him, all of which made him annoying and frustrating to others, known to him in ways that it hadn’t while in kindergarten or just at home with his mother; eventually his parents were talked into having him checked, which landed him with a diagnosis and medicine that barely helped him navigate through his school days, the medicine did help him be a little bit less annoying but they had also made him feel off.

However, the moment he’d truly started questioning the value of himself and living, came when his mother became noticeably unwell, it wasn’t until she began to turn against him and his father became bitter and angry that Stiles began to worry that life would eventually break him.

Stiles recalls once feeling saddened by how young he’d been when he’d come to realize that life was nothing more than a test, a test on how much certain people that were randomly picked could take, life was a waiting game of just how much hate and wickedness a person could take before they either snapped or simply broke. Life was a twisted game of endurance, this he had learned before the age of eleven, and this fact was one that no-one ever warned you about life.

Stiles had been a pawn in the game of life long enough, and he’d reached the point where he knew he no longer wanted to play this unhappy game.

Frankly, the only good thing Stiles could find with life was the fact that eventually it would eventually end. There was even some comfort to be found in the knowledge that life was fragile, and that you could break and end it prematurely if you so wished it, and those thought had in the past helped sooth him.

Life wasn’t eternal, even though for some it might seem so, at least until the youthful innocence was finally broken by the world and the people in it, making thus the fact of mortality very real.

Driving-up to a rather fancy looking cabin that was barely visible through the heavy rain, the light of the headlights of his Jeep seemed barely able to break through the heavy rain that he hadn’t even noticed until now, Stiles wondered for what felt like a sluggish moment where he was and why’d he’d driven to this place in the middle of nowhere, the flicker of a faint recollection of the reasons why he’d driven up to this place he’d never been too before makes him breathe out a whispered, `Oh. ´

Stiles sits there inside his crappy Jeep for a minute once he’d managed to park it without the vehicle rolling off down the gravel road, thinking about the reason he was there. Stiles sits there not so much to gather courage or to make-up his mind on what to do, but just to sit there feeling numb while distantly aware that bone-deep exhaustion would soon cripple him.

`You’ve come this far. ´ Stiles hears himself mumble, and he has to agree that coming this far and turning around before facing the mane who’d made him, would be a waste of time and the effort it had taken Stiles to come this far.

Slowly Stiles turns his gaze away from the building that was for the most part encased in the darkness of the stormy-night, a map laid on top of the scattered assortment of documents that had been dumped on the otherwise empty seat next to him, documents Stiles slowly recalls taking from within his dad’s safe before running. There’s the letter that had sparked his need to understand why exactly he’d been accepted to a college he hadn’t even applied too, as well as the letter that had informed him he’d gotten a full scholarship to said college that he hadn’t applied too, and these letters and documents were the reason why he was sitting in his Jeep outside a cabin he’d never been too before.

Grabbing clumsily all the papers he’d brought with him, Stiles exits the Jeep that had belonged to his mom, Claudia, a Jeep she’d left for him. Not even closing the Jeep door behind him, Stiles starts to make his way to the front-door of the cabin, he thinks briefly he should probably move faster but his limbs feel too heavy and he just can’t be bothered to run through the heavy rain.

Closing the distance between him and the cabin which stood for the most part dark and silent in the night, Stiles holds the messy bunch of papers close to his chest without even worrying a second about the heavy rain damaging the papers in his hold. He is soaking wet by the time he climbs the steps of the porch, not that he’s aware of his soaking and clothes.

Stiles feels strangely numb as he comes to stand before the closed door, enough so that he doesn’t even notice the way his teeth are chattering from the cold. Without thinking, without a hint of hesitation, Stiles knocks on the door none too gently and then he steps back and just waits for however long.

Stiles continues to feel empty even as faintly notices that there’s now some light shining through the windows, and he continues to not feel all that much as he hears faint voices from behind the closed door, and he continues to feel nothing that is until the door opens and Stiles finally comes face to face with Tony Stark.

Something about seeing Tony Stark stirs some form of life and energy inside of him, Stiles thinks briefly that the man looks much older than he’d expected him too, but then that thought vanishes when he takes in the dumfounded look plastered upon Stark’s face and something angry and bitter blooms within him, causing Stiles to raise his voice for the first-time in a very long time.

that sparks life into him just enough for Stiles bark out furiously.

`Fuck you. ´ Stiles barks furiously causing a startled look to appear on Stark’s face, and that expression only serves to further enrage him, giving room for the anger that had sat dormant within him for however long he’d been numb.

`Fuck you, and fuck the legacy bullshit you’ve pulled. ´ Stiles continues furiously while shoving the not so organized or dry assortment of documents against the chest of Tony Stark, and the man had only just managed to get a grip of the messy stacked of papers shoved against his chest when Stiles pushed hard against the chest, feeling the fascinating item that kept Stark going and which a curious part of Stiles even now would’ve loved to have taken a part and figure thus out how it worked.

Snarling into the face of the man who struggled to put a name to the furious face standing before him, but Stiles doesn’t care whether or not this asshole blinking at him in confusion would realize who it was that had forced him out of his warm and nice bed in the middle of the night.

`I don’t want your help, ´ Stiles tells Stark and he really doesn’t need any of Stark’s help, ` I don’t need your help now, or ever. So, you can take your money and shove it up your ass! ´

Stiles sees the moment recognition is sparked in Stark, the dark-eyes widen and begin to track every detail of Stiles’ face as if the he suddenly couldn’t wait to capture every detail of Stiles’ face, but the moment Stark truly looks at him he also appears to notice the bruises and the almost healed by now black-eye.

Stiles doesn’t appreciate the look of alarm that appears on Stark’s face, a face he’d heard plenty of girls describe as handsome. Stiles steps back the moment Starks reaches out towards him, perhaps to touch Stiles bruised face or maybe to try and pull him inside the dry and warm interior of the cabin, Stiles doesn’t know which but he knows the move isn’t hostile or violent.

`Mieczyslaw? ´ Stark breathes out shakily, and Stiles absolutely hates it that the guy actually says his name with familiar ease without butchering it the slightest, not even his childhood friend ever bothered to learn it.

Stiles cats his eyes over Stark’s shoulder, watching a wide-eyed woman who looks equally alarmed by the sight of him as Stark does, she starts to move towards Stark.

`Don’t call me that. ´ Stiles hisses, pointing a furious and still broken finger at Tony Stark.

Stiles goes on and allowing his anger to flow freely, giving Stark no room to speak, ` I don’t need your help, any of it. So, fuck off, Mr. Stark, and stay the hell out of my life. ´ Stiles knows that parts of the anger fuelling him now isn’t entirely born because of Tony Stark, but in some small way it doesn’t matter, since without Tony Stark Stiles wouldn’t have existed to feel the way he did; Stiles life had started because of Tony Stark, and so the man deserved to feel and hear Stiles bone deep anger.

`It’s all your fault. Everything, everything is all your fault! ´ Stiles roars into the startled face of a man who made him and then dumped him in the care of the Stilinski’s, like some dog you’ve realized you don’t want after you’ve had enough time to realize having a pet requires sacrifices, sacrifices you aren’t ready or willing to make.

`Fucking hate you, ´ Stiles spits out, and he does, he does hate Tony Stark, and with that Stiles turns around sharply while ignoring the throbbing pain of his ankle that really hadn’t yet healed from the sprain it had suffered a few weeks ago, but with how used Stiles was with pain it does nothing to stop him from making a move to leave.

Stiles only manages to take a couple of steps before there’s a hand on his shoulder, putting unwished pressure against his sore shoulder which causes him to hiss in pain, the sound is enough for Stark to lift his hand away as if Stiles’ shoulder had suddenly burned him. While Stark removed his hold on Stiles’ shoulder, the older-male goes to pull at the already stretched and slightly torn collar of Stiles’ soaking wet t-shirt.

`Don’t touch me! ´ Stiles barks immediately and does his absolute best tot try and twist himself away from Stark and the hold he’s got on the collar of his t-shirt, the sound of fabric tearing a little bit more as Stiles twists and turns the way he’d done when his drunken father had attempted to stop him from leaving.

Starks grip on the collar is unyielding hover, possibly because the man wasn’t drunk, or perhaps Stark was more determined to keep Stiles i there than what Stiles dad had been. Stiles protests loudly when Stark’s hand moves to lift the back of Stiles’ shirt, just enough to reveal even more of Stiles’ battered skin.

`Who did this? ´Stark questions him, his voice tight with anger, the anger could be seen in the eyes of the man Stiles hated even more now.

`Oh my God. ´ the woman who was now standing where Tony had but a minute ago gasped, while wearing the horrified look of someone who was so out of their element.

` Who did this to you, Mieczyslaw? ´ Stark questions him again, demanding answers which Stiles firmly felt Stark had no rights too. 

`None of your freaking business! ´ Stiles spits out furiously, reaching out to push at the older-man which only serves to cause his broken finger further pain.

`Who the hell hurt you? ´ Stark continues, and Stiles stares him down before answering truthfully.

`Who the fuck hasn’t. ´ his answer seems to cause Stark to pale a little.

`Did – did, Stilinski, do this to you? ´ is Stark’s next question, and although Stiles refuses to answer his question, there clearly is some expression that flickers across Stiles’ stubborn face that gives him the answer he is looking for.

Releasing the hold of the collar, Stark brings the hand that had held Stiles in place to cover his mouth, but not before Stark has breathed out into the night a desperate, `Oh God, no. ´

` You – you should come in. ´ the woman, Piper, Pepper or whatever she was called says then, `You’re soaking wet, Mieczyslaw, and someone really needs to take a look at…´

`I’m fine. ´ Stiles grits out, his teeth still chattering away, and he starts to renew his struggle to get away.

`No, kid, you’re not fine. ´ Stark says with an air of defeat, with regret, there’s a sadness in the eyes that were much darker than Stiles’ own, `come on inside, we’ll get you fixed-up and get you some dry clothes too. ´

`Are you fucking deaf?! ´ Stiles questions none too quietly, pulling away from Stark as violently as humanly possible when your whole body is sore and exhausted, `I said I want nothing from you. ´ the sound of the soaking fabric tearing at the back, feeling the fabric part and split in half from the collar all the way down to where Stark had still been gripping on tightly to the thin fabric of Stiles’ ratty old t-shirt, the sound is surprisingly loud in Stiles ears as is alarmed gasp that follows from the two adults.

Stiles might not know how bad the damage on his back was, it wasn’t like he’d been able to turn head even an inch for the past week without feeling a dizzying pain shoot up his neck and all the way up to his skill, but there has been a reason why Stiles hasn’t undressed himself in-front of others, not even Scott back when they were still friends.

`Oh dear God. ´ a feminine voice can only just be heard over the loud rumbling of the approaching thunder.

`It’s nothing. ´ Stiles responds defensively, since, well, it really wasn’t a big deal. A couple of bruises was nothing new. A broken bone, hurts yeah, but not a big freaking deal. His back covered in lashes, welts, fresh and old, the skin marred with scars from belts and claws, and that time Stiles lipped and feel on a piece of broken glass, it wasn’t something to talk about since it just was.

Stiles isn’t prepared for the way he’s suddenly pulled into a hug, it’s surprisingly gentle but also fierce which is a mixture Stiles can’t really understand, being hugged leaves him feeling rather trapped and it causes him to go completely still where he stands, he flinches as Stark’s hand goes to rest at the back of Stiles’ neck.

`I’m so sorry. ´ Stiles hears Stark say, the words are as hollow and empty as they would be if spoken by his father. 

`I’m so sorry, kid. ´ Stark continues to apologize, as if trying to will Stiles to believe him, but Stiles knows not to believe blindly when people apologize to him, since words were but words. Stiles’ dad had often apologized to him after losing his tempter, until even he realized they held no power of meaning. Scott always apologized for ignoring him or forgetting him, but nothing ever changed. His mother had apologized more than once after she became sick and started hurting him, she’d even apologized before that for being sick and for the death sentence that came with her diagnosis.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, for fuck the duck, please don’t fuck the duck, go fuck a willing partner who is human and isn’t a freaking child. Anyways, everyone fucking stop yelling at me, I followed the crumbs BrittleDragonBones gave me, alright. 
> 
> Yes, Tony made the decision to cut Stiles out of his life, and he did so because he (Tony) felt he wasn’t good-enough to be a dad to the kid, and would only screw the kid up, he made a list of why he couldn’t be a parent and the list was long. And so, Tony made the decision he felt would be best for his kid, handing him over to his former bodyguard and his wife, knowing that they’d wanted a child for ages but hadn’t had any success at it, and Tony trusted Stilinski and so felt it was safe to trust his son to the man too. Feeling strongly that his would do better in life by not knowing about him, about who is biological parents were, he made it clear that not until Stiles was eighteen could the Stilinski’s share the knowledge of Stiles origin; and they were more than glad to have a few years without Starks shadow looming over their happy family, and sure, the money that Tony would be sending their way each month was a nice compensation too for raising his son; plus, Tony also made sure that there was some extra money for emergencies, he opens a savings account in Stiles’ name and another strictly for college, he does what little he can to make sure his kid will be financially secure. 
> 
> He might not feel like he’s good enough to raise his son, but he’ll sure as hell will secure a good life for his kid, sadly, Tony may have trusted the wrong man when it came to raising his son. 
> 
> Now, for a few years Stark did manage to keep himself from checking on his kid, but after his life was changed by being kidnapped and while surrounded by way too much sand and the unforgiving desert sun, he had to go and see his kid and he’s more than glad to be the judge at Beacon Hills Science Fair; and yes, his participating in this fair had to do more with Stiles than wanting to gift the winner with a small check, he doesn’t miss the uneasy look Stilinski gives him but he’s too focused on his kid who built a robot from scratch, one that actually worked be it slowly.   
He’d listened, genuinely listened, and took time reading the display Stiles had made, thinking all the while, “Yeah, this kid is a Stark.” since it was clear hi son had a great deal of ideas and visions for further use of robot technology, but also wrote a bloody essay on the ethical use and treatment of robots, and the kid was still just that a little kid. He’d watched as the AI of the clunky robot stopped it from falling off the table, he watched as the clumsy machine watered a set of plants that had dry soil, avoiding to water those moist. He’d listened to Stiles talk on and on how perhaps one day humans could send robots to mars or the moon and have them set-up greenhouse to grow food and medicine, thus preparing for human-life to succeed, and Tony had questioned the boy long enough that he’d almost got himself in trouble with the other students and judges.   
Tony isn’t all that surprised when the Sheriff stops him on the way out of Beacon Hills, they talk, briefly and the man convinces him that it would be better for Stiles who was already dealing with so much if Tony just stayed away – at least for now. Trusting Stilinski’s judgement, Tony leaves, thinking it would be for the best since he had a world to make better after all Stiles had pointed out they had but one planet to liv on, and they weren’t doing a good job at taking care of her. 
> 
> He’s thought about his kid, been tempted to check on him but Tony knows that if he gives into this temptation then he would take it too far, he’d get involved somehow in Stiles’ life and that would surely draw unwanted attention and not only from Stiles himself. Soon, years have passed and he doesn’t even know what his kid looks like, which is why it takes him a moment to recognize his son. 
> 
> Goddamn it, I have so much more to say, but I’ve got to stop.


End file.
